They all sat together in the lovely room. Outside the world was cold and dead, but inside dwelled warmth, happiness, and mostly love. Georgiana quietly played the piano, occasionally casting a shy glance toward the opposite side of the room. There sat her brother, who just as quietly listened to the soft music, his gaze transfixed upon his wife, his hand playing with an obstinate dark curl at the base of her neck. She occasionally gave him a look filled with archness and sweetness, as every so often when he twined the curl around his finger his hand would brush against her skin. Upon seeing her look at him he would smile, a twinge of mischief in his dark, loving eyes. Georgiana smiled as she caught Elizabeth carefully poking one of his dimples on one of these occasions. Georgiana smiled and looked away as she caught her brother lean in and give his wife a tender kiss, one hand upon her neck, the other holding her hand against his cheek.

"Ur-hurm," she choked out as she heard the footsteps of a servant approach.

Elizabeth and Darcy quietly parted.

"What is it?" asked Darcy petulantly, annoyed that he should be interrupted.

The servant started and finally said, "sir, I was asked to remind you of your engagement by Mrs. Reynolds, you will be in danger of being late if you do not leave now."

Darcy sighed and rolled his eyes. Elizabeth lifted an eyebrow amusedly. Georgiana accidentally made a nasty noise on the piano in disappointment.

His hand had lingered on the back of Elizabeth's neck, and he gave her skin a final caress as he quietly said with resignation, "I must go."

"I know," was the response as she gave him a sweet smile, and a glint appeared in her eye. "Shall I wait for you in the library?"

Darcy could only look back lovingly as he walked away. He saw her standing, lovely and perfect next to the small sofa where they had been sitting, a wide smile displayed across her face.

"Uf," groaned Elizabeth as she collapsed upon the sofa when the door closed.

She moaned to Georgiana, "three months, and I still can't get used to him leaving for business."

Georgiana smiled as she approached to seat herself next to Elizabeth.

"You will with time, have patience."

Elizabeth turned her head towards her sister, "So young and yet so wise." Elizabeth sat up and continued in jest, "Pray, where did you obtain this wealth of patience and wisdom, so that I may find some as well?"

Georgiana smiled, "My brother, " and continued with a glint in her eye, "wait...I take that back, I think it was from Miss Annesley."

"No," Elizabeth replied, "I had scarlet fever as a baby. I shall be all right I assure you".*

Georgiana looked at her sister. "I will go with you," she said, sweetly looking into Elizabeth's eyes, desperately wanting to help.

"You cannot," replied Elizabeth.

Georgiana started to argue but Elizabeth continued, "You've never had scarlet fever have you, Georgiana." She shook her head.

"I wouldn't risk anything in the world to cause you pain or make you ill, neither would your brother, and that is why you must remain here," Laying her other hand over her sister's she continued, "but will you do me a favor?"

"You know I would do anything you asked."

"All right then," replied Elizabeth with a tender look for her sister, "wait for William in the library. When he comes back, tell him where I have gone. But, please, I know that he will want to come after me, tell him that he must wait here, that I'm his wife and that he knows I will do what I think is right and necessary."

Georgiana interrupted, "But surely, you will return before he does, he is to come home at nightfall!"

"I don't know how long I shall be. Please wait for him Georgiana."

"I shall," she said, eyes downcast.

"Thank you," said Elizabeth, as she raised one her sister's hands and kissed it.

As the servant and Elizabeth passed into the hallway, she stared to ask another servant for the carriage. She was interrupted.

"Ma'am. I already...I mean, I took the liberty...er, of...hrm, asking for the...hrm...carriage...just in case you decided..."

They quietly left the house and approached the carriage. Elizabeth noted that the servant started to climb to the top with the drivers, but told him that he should join her in the interior. The man protested and then finally agreed upon Elizabeth's insistence.

As they entered Elizabeth noticed that at the end of her seat sat a small basket filled with supplies. There were towels, medicines, and some food.

"Thank you for the supplies," Elizabeth said to the servant.

Staring at his hands, the servant replied, "er, hrm...it was Mrs. Reynolds, not I ma'am."

"Oh," said Elizabeth, in understanding. It wasn't surprising to her that she had taken the initiative to prepare supplies for the visit. In the past months Mrs. Reynolds had always been there, quietly guiding her in her duties, supporting her as she got used to them. Whenever Elizabeth needed something, she had always been one step ahead of her, humbly offering assistance in any way she could.

"I shall remember to thank her."

As the carriage started forward Elizabeth looked at the servant who was still fumbling with his hands. "What is your name?" she quietly asked.

"Matthew," was the response.

"Well Matthew," said Elizabeth, placing one of her hands upon his, "don't fear about your brother, well shall help him, we shall make him well again."

"Oh, why was I not summoned sooner!" cried Elizabeth in quiet exasperation.

There was no response.

The carriage soon pulled to a stop in front of a tenant house on the Pemberley lands. The house was small, yet built well, and well kept. Elizabeth knew that Darcy took good care of his tenants. Elizabeth quietly entered the house.

"Ma'am!!" cried a small woman as she entered the house, standing up from the bedside of her son. "We weren't expecting...we didn't want to disturb you and the master...please...forgive me.."

"There is nothing to forgive, " said Elizabeth, "and from now on, you and the others must never fear upon calling on me for assistance. I want to help. Do not think that I resent or disapprove of it. Please, do me that favor in return."

"Thank you," was the quiet response.

"May I see your son?" asked Elizabeth, walking toward a boy no more than ten years old.

The woman quietly nodded. Elizabeth sat down upon the edge of the bed and set her basket on the floor. Gently, she placed her hand on the young boy's forehead. It was incredibly hot, and she stroked his dark hair away from his forehead. His skin was deathly white and his breathing was terribly erratic.

"What is his name?" asked Elizabeth of the woman.

"Thomas," was the reply. She had sat down upon a chair, her hands resting in her lap, fidgeting with her dress. Matthew stood behind her, his hand resting upon her shoulder for support.

"Thomas," whispered Elizabeth, as she turned towards the boy.

As she took a cloth and began wiping his forehead she noticed that his long, dark lashes began to flutter and then open. When his eyes finally opened, she stared into a pair of clear blue eyes.

He quietly looked at her and hoarsely whispered, "I'm dying, ain't I?"

"Shh, Thomas, shh," said Elizabeth. "You must think of living, not of dying."